


TAU One Word Prompt Drabbles

by OnlyRoomForHope



Series: Transcendence AU [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Drabbles, I don't know what I'm doing, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyRoomForHope/pseuds/OnlyRoomForHope
Summary: I figured why not.I'm literally just using a random word generator.Random one-shots, drabbles and shorts based around the Transcendence AU, all inspired by a single word. Probably unedited, too.
Series: Transcendence AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553605
Comments: 26
Kudos: 40





	1. Prompt 1: Straighten

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing

To say renowned actor and supernatural rights activist Pacifica Northwest was furious would be an understatement. No, she was beyond furious at this point. Her parents should have known better by now - she’d not only shunned them, but was known globally as one of the most influential activists around - yet they still insisted on inviting her to one of their prominent “Lunches”. Lunches being a simple codename for an event the Northwest’s set up yearly in which a bunch of rich and predominant pro-nats sit around and talk about how humans are superior to the newly uncovered Supernaturals.

Every year, without fail, Pacifica received an invitation and every year, without fail , Pacifica turned them down.

She didn’t need them. She’d made a life for herself that she enjoyed and she didn’t intend to play nice with pro-nats when she firmly opposed their opinions. What was the point?

This year, though, the distinguished blonde was at the end of her leash. Attack after attack after attack, pro-nat cultist wreaked havoc and barged into the peaceful lives of the Supernaturals, spilling lies of corruption and brainwashing and death. There had been three bashings in the past two months, and that’s not even mentioning the amount of rallies and raids that had gone wrong! If you thought all Pacifica Northwest did was stand on the sidelines and preach pretty words then you were dead wrong. Fundraisers, campaigns and rallies don’t organise themselves, and Pacifica was being wrung dry by the sheer amount of appearances she’d had to make merely during the past week.

She couldn’t take it anymore - and she wouldn’t.

Looking down at the thick parchment held in her hand, eyeing the fancy ‘plus 1’ printed near the bottom in swirling gold font, Pacifica Northwest grinned.

One hand pulled out her phone, barely sparing the screen a glance as she dialed the numbers imprinted in her head and raised her phone to her ear. Ignoring the tinny “hello?” the greeted her, Pacifica smirked, fist tightening on the page.

“Alcor, I need your help,” she purred, eyes still burning a hole through the ‘plus 1’ that would show them all.

Never let it be said she’s all bark and no bite. 

Because Pacifica Northwest has one heck of a bite.

Alcor hovered in front of the mirror, taking in his outfit and making adjustments to his appearance as needed. All the omnipotent demon was waiting on now, was-

“Sorry I’m late, I decided to make some...last minute adjustments.”

Spinning on his heel, Alcor turned and took in the mastermind behind the tumultuous plan.

She looked...stunning, for lack of a better word.

Her golden hair was piled high atop her head, held in place by a myriad of bobby pins and a - no doubt expensive - silver crown. Eye-catching silver and blue teardrop earrings dangled from her ears, catching light with each turn of her head. Light makeup decorated her face, a smudge of royal blue eyeshadow on each eyelid, a light dusting of rosy blush on each cheek and a tad of pale pink lip gloss shining on her lips.

The blonde was wearing a long, royal blue dress with an empire-waist and a strapless sweetheart neckline. A silver belt designed to look like chain link wrapped around her waist at least three times before being allowed to fall. Her neck was adorned with a simple silver necklace with a royal blue teardrop charm - reminiscent of her earrings - perched on the end. The dress swished as she approached and Alcor nodded in approval.

“The chain belt was a nice addition,” Alcor muttered, thoughtfully.

“I’m glad you think so. Think you could add something like that to your suit?” The blonde tilted her head, earrings swinging wildly. The dream demon smirked.

“Of course, what kind of demon do you take me for?” He asked rhetorically, snapping his fingers as a matching chain link belt formed within the loops of his trousers, gold on him where it was silver on Pacifica. As if on second thought, chains also wrapped around the twitching bat-esque wings attached to the brunet’s lower back. He straightened his suit’s bowtie as Pacifica hummed. 

“...That’ll do,” she announced finally, taking a few more steps forward until she was standing right in front of Alcor, each step allowing him to catch a glimpse of her royal blue greek-style heels. “Are you ready to head off?”

“I’m ready when you are, M͡͞s̵ ̸N͏or̡̛t̸hw͡͏e̵st͜,” Alcor smirked, golden eyes with black sclera boring into Pacifica’s own icy blue orbs.

“Then we best be off,” she returned his smirk with a viciousness he’d only seen a few times before and took a hold of his arm.

With that, the pair disappeared. And chaos ensued.


	2. Prompt 2: Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have homework due but I couldn't concentrate so this happened. Oops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have updated so soon, but don't expect any more XD  
> I surprised myself by getting this out so quickly lmao

It was quiet without her.

It was dull without her.

It was both quiet and dull, intertwining but never merging. When it was dull, it was quiet and vice versa, yet they were two different words with two different meanings.

The world wasn’t as bright anymore.

Humanity wasn’t as interesting as before.

What once was a prime source of entertainment and intrigue, was now meaningless. Futile. Nothing but trivial amusement.

Humans were such fickle, fleeting creatures living fickle, fleeting lives. He smiled, and they cowered. He laughed, and they ran. He blinked, and they vanished without a trace left behind but memories that travelled along generations before inevitably being swallowed up by the tides of time.

Humans were creation and destruction. Smarts and stupidity. They thought themselves so intelligent, creating machines and gases and substances capable of destroying lives and writing codes that stole personal information for their own gain. They killed animals, they killed creatures and then they killed themselves. Their hands were so bloody yet they still considered themselves superior to other creatures, creatures so much more fantastical than them, with intuition and brilliance in spades, with power and strength in buckets, worth so much more than their petty, insignificant existences.

~~_ She was a human, though _ ~~

It was all so meaningless without her. 

Without her winning smiles, her teasing laugh, her bold, overpowering yet completely loveable personality.

Without her firm hugs, without her sunny disposition, without her protective instincts that, despite her being mortal and him being otherwise, always made him feel so safe.

Without her annoying (yet humorous) comments, without her stupidly brave and reckless nature, without her insurmountable amount of love she had to share, no matter what or who or why.

Without her, he was alone. Without her, he was nugatory. He had no reason to retain his false pretence of living when it wasn’t even by choice.

No, none of this was by choice.

He never had a choice. 

He never had a choice, never had and never will have. No, the universe didn’t care for his choice.

  
  


The universe just wanted to watch him _**b̭̻͚͔̙̹̜͕̘̻̭͍̻̪̳͉̥̜̬ͣ̌̑̿ͤ̆ͦ͗̆̓ũ̪͚̖̝͚̤͎͎̯̘̲̩͓̘͇̣̒ͦ̆́̈́̂̃͌͐̐ͥř̥̬̭͕͚̼̤͉̗̯̱̳̘ͥ́ͤͅń̰̳̥̳̖̳̫͙͓͇̘̜̬̹͉̪͈̬̱͒̓͑̐́̃ͧͪ.**_

  
  


So, he burned. And as he burned, he cried. He cried out so silently it was impossible any item, creature, thing would ever hear him. The only one who’d ever heard him was her. She always heard him.

Yet she was gone, whisked away by fate and time and destiny.

For what is mortal cannot live forever, and what is eternal will remain. It is a simple fact of life.

Time and time again she returned, never truly the same yet never truly different. There was always a constant, be it her/his/its/eir nature, her/his/its/eir purpose, her/his/its/eir soul.

Time and time again she returned, yet time and time again she disappeared.

Each time she was stolen from him, he felt another piece of him die. Humans were such fickle, fleeting creatures living fickle, fleeting lives ~~ , and she just so happened to be one ~~ .

He missed her. He missed her so, so much.

He missed everything about her.

It was meaningless without her.

It was so quiet.

It was so dull.

He tried to convince himself that it was okay. That as time continued on and humans evolved (yet never truly lost that self-obsessed spark of ‘humans are more superior’, despite there being so many more interesting, powerful and intelligent species out there, some discovered yet many not), he tried to convince himself that he could just meet her over and over again in her new form. That she/he/it/ey would accept him. That she/he/it/ey would love him like the first.

Many did love him like the first. Never quite the same, but many came close.

However, he was tired. He was so, so tired of those who didn’t.

She had loved him, so why couldn’t they?

Why?

He didn’t...understand.

That was okay, though. There were many things he didn’t understand.

He might be omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent, practically a god yet not, but that didn’t mean he had to understand ~~ , right? ~~ .

He understood enough, at least.

He understood that, while she had loved him, she was gone.

He understood that, despite everything, despite what he had become, he still loved her.

He understood that, in spite of what he’d become, what he was becoming, he still loved her. He still loved.

Alcor the Dreambender understood that human beings were fickle, fleeting creatures living fickle, fleeting lives.

Alcor the Forgotten One understood that human beings would always be fickle, fleeting creatures living fickle, fleeting lives.

Alcor the Twin Star understood that Mizar the Gleeful, Belle Sterling, Maddie Pines, Bentley, Mira, Carmen, Stella, Mabel Pines was human and always would be. He understood this as he knew without a doubt that no matter what happened, be it the apocalypse, the end of humanity, the end of the universe, they would always be twins. As long as Alcor and Mizar shone in the depths of the Big Dipper, one forever brighter but never without the other, they would be twins.

Alcor knew humans were fickle, fleeting creatures living fickle, fleeting lives.

Oh, he would give anything to be human again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the heck can I write two drabbles in a day for this, both consisting of 700+ words yet I can't update my BNHA fic - which only requires like, 100 words a week - any time sooner than like, once a month at the very least???
> 
> And why the heck do I find this style easier to write in compared to normal writing, like my previous drabble? oop-
> 
> Oh, also unbeta'd because I really need to get this work done-


	3. Prompt 3: Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title; "He Never Wanted This"

Sometimes Alcor didn't feel right in his new body, skin. As if he didn’t fit it, like it was too small or too large, too tight or too loose or just a little bit of everything. Sure, it was built similar to his original one, but it just wasn't the same.  
  


Sometimes Alcor fit a little too well in his new body, skin. As if this was what he was always meant to be, as if this was all he ever was. He hated it, he detested it, he didn't want this. He never wanted this.  
  
  
But since when did he ever get what he wanted?   
  
  
Sometimes, Alcor just looked at his new features, appendages. Just looked at his black claws, ending in a point that could shear through human bone (he knew it could). Just felt his pointed ears that should be round but they weren't and that was  _ wrong.  _ Just felt his sharpened teeth with his tongue, feeling how they ended in points and were most certainly carnivorous in nature, despite him being able to "eat" anything.  He knew they'd be perfect for tearing through flesh and muscle and bone. And he hated it.  
  


They felt wrong at the moment. Foreign. He wasn’t meant to have wings, or claws, or whatever else. Humans weren’t meant to have demonic features. Yet he knew that as time went on, in the not-so-distant future, he would grow accustomed to them. It would feel strange to be without them, because he was no longer a human but a demon and demons had demonic features. Dipper feared that not-so-distant future.

  
Sometimes, he sat and listened to his demonic instincts scream at him. He didn't do anything they told him to, he just listened. He laughed. He laughed at how idiotic the ideas were. Why would he ever do these? What was the point?

~~  
Chaos, his mind supplied. He ignored it. ~~ ~~~~

  
And after he laughed, he cried. He cried because he knew without a doubt, with absolute certainty that one day, he'd do these things. He'd listen to his demonic instincts and do what they told him to because Mabel, her children, her grandchildren and so forth would all be gone. Mabel and Henry and Willow and Acacia and Hank would die and sure, he had their reincarnations, but they’d never be the  _ same. _ They’d all leave him and he'd be all alone and he'd have no one to turn to, and hanging onto his humanity when there was nothing left for him was  _ so hard. _ He knew that one day, he'd give up.   
  
He'd never wanted this, but since when did he ever get what he wanted?

He never wanted to take lives. His hands were soaked in blood, invisible blood that would remain no matter how many times he changed his clothes, washed his hands, cleansed himself. Blood that was sticky and dry and old and young and  _ there. _

He couldn’t forgive himself now. It was one thing taking lives by his own hand but Mabel . . . she didn’t deserve this. She shouldn't have had to lay a finger on another’s life. It was all his fault and he was the worst brother, twin that anyone could ever ask for. He had made his sister kill another human being on multiple accounts.

~~ It was her choice, his mind supplied. He ignored it. ~~

Dipper detested it. He detested it with every fiber of his being, with every fiber of his stolen magic. He detested it, but what was that going to do?

He’d never wanted this, but since when did he ever get what he wanted?

‘No, I never wanted this,’ he reflected, gold on black gazing dully at his palms, ‘but since when was I given a choice?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> Tysm to StarlightSystem for reading this over for me <3 ilysm  
> Oh and the formatting probably sucks. Sorry about that.

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for the messy and stunted writing. I have a problem where whenever I try to write it comes out kinda,,,lacking? Anyone got any tips to fix that?
> 
> Oh yeah, not beta read! Because I don't have time for that! :D
> 
> [Click here to join my Discord! :D](https://discord.gg/vqCQQX5)


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